


Fix me or just conflict me (Four)

by MolestingMusic



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Heartbreak, M/M, No Smut, Ryden, Sad, Stage Gay, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 18:27:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7475172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MolestingMusic/pseuds/MolestingMusic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four defining moments. Four heartbreaks.  But only one man caused them all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fix me or just conflict me (Four)

One.

 

It’s the way Ryan’s eyes are shining under the lamppost. His eyes have never looked so brown. Brendon focuses on Ryan’s lip, which the latter is gnawing on nervously. There’s a dark bruise under Ryan’s left eye, and Brendon knows who did it. It’s a moment full of intensity, a moment that is about to slip away.

“He’s insane,” breathes Ryan, glancing at his house. “He’s losing it.”

“I’m sorry,” says Brendon, readjusting his glasses. “I really am, Ryan.”

Ryan shrugs as Brendon takes another step, looking away. Brendon swallows as his fingers brush Ryan’s hand, and he just wants to wrap his arms around the fragile boy. Ryan tries to appear strong in front of everybody, but Brendon knows that he’s falling apart, that he is desperate for help.

“The band will make it and… and everything will change,” says Brendon cheerfully. “I won’t have to deal with stupid rules anymore and you won’t have to deal with your dad.”

Ryan looks at him and he seems slightly relieved, and he offers Brendon a tired smile. Now Ryan is the one taking another step, and Brendon can’t help but notice that there's something different in the other boy’s expression; it’s as if he’s looking at Brendon under a different light.

“You’re such a dork,” says Ryan suddenly, and Brendon feels Ryan’s belt buckle brushing his stomach. Ryan is a bit taller than he is, so Brendon looks up a little, their eyes locking. And everything changes in that instant.

Ryan leans in and his lips barely touch Brendon’s, their breaths mixing at once. Brendon grasps the front of Ryan’s shirt but Ryan moves away before they go any further, a flicker of confusion across his face.

“Ryan, what-“

“Um, you should go home,” says Ryan, moviing away from Brendon as he glances up and down the street. “I need to go in and… make sure he’s all right.”

“O-okay,” stammers Brendon as Ryan leaves him all alone on the sidewalk. Brendon is trying to understand what just happened… were they about to kiss? But they’re both straight, they’re only friends, and Ryan… is Ryan.

But he can’t ignore the way his heart is fluttering, and Brendon feels lost.

 

Two.

 

“Wow, look at this!”

Brendon leans in and looks at the screen on Ryan’s laptop as the rest of the guys start cracking up. There are hundreds of pictures of Ryan and Brendon on stage, both of them very close, looking like they’re about to kiss.

“They are calling us Ryden,” says Ryan derisively. “Isn’t that amusing?”

“Yeah, totally,” agrees Brendon halfheartedly. “I guess the stage gay idea wasn’t so bad after all.”

“Imagine if you actually kissed,” grins Spencer, leaning back as the bus starts moving. Brendon grins back, but his heart isn’t in it. He loves the melodramatics of their show, he loves listening to the girls hold their breath whenever he gets close to Ryan, but he dislikes the fact that it’s just acting.

On Ryan’s part, of course. Brendon has a small crush on his bandmate, but he’s sure it will go away eventually. After all, didn’t he think he was in love with Ryan when they shared that moment under the lamppost? Ridiculous. It’s merely lust, they’re on tour and groupies are scary, and Ryan is kind of beautiful.

Kind of. Sort of. Just a little.

Soon Ryan and Brendon are the only ones left in the tiny lounge area of the bus, and Brendon keeps sneaking glances at him. Ryan finally tears his eyes off his laptop and raises an eyebrow at Brendon.

“Yes?” he asks impatiently.

“Well, Ryan, you don’t mind… people thinking… you know,” says Brendon, clearing his throat.

“Thinking what?” asks Ryan.

“That we’re, um, together,” trails off Brendon before looking away. “Because if you do, then we can…”

“Brendon, people are talking about the band, and this is good,” says Ryan, stretching his arms. “I don’t care. I know who I am, you know who you are, and people can think we’re fucking if they want to.”

Fucking.

“Oh, yeah, I know,” says Brendon, nervously dismissive. “Totally.”

They look at each other awkwardly for a while, and they both stand up at the same time, causing Ryan to snort. Brendon blushes slightly and starts walking towards his bunk bed, but he feels Ryan’s fingers wrap around his wrist, pulling him closer.

“Wh-what are you doing?” asks Brendon, terrified.

“Let’s just get it out of our systems,” says Ryan, his nostrils flared.

“Huh?” blurts Brendon, and Ryan crushes his lips against his, kissing him hungrily. Brendon pushes Ryan away, trying to catch his breath, and Ryan seems pissed off.

“What the fuck, Ross?” says Brendon angrily, wiping his mouth. “What the-“ Ryan wraps his arms around him and kisses him again, the kiss intense and forceful. Brendon struggles for a split second but then finds himself kissing him back, their mouths hot and eager as the bus comes to a sudden stop.

They lose their balance and fall on the floor noisily, and Ryan curses under his breath as Brendon’s elbow hits him in the stomach.

“Flat tire, guys,” calls the driver as he turns off the engine, and Brendon looks into Ryan’s eyes.

“This didn’t happen,” snaps Ryan, scrambling to get up without touching Brendon.

“You… you kissed me,” whispers Brendon hurriedly. “You were the one who-“

“This… never… happened,” says Ryan darkly and he storms off, and Brendon wonders if they traveled back in time to that hot summer night in Vegas, where they almost kissed for the first time.

Because Brendon feels confused all over again.

 

Three.

 

“This isn’t working out anymore.”

Ryan says these words with an air of finality, and Brendon feels his heart drop. He glances at Spencer, who looks eerily calm as he nods, and Brendon can’t help but think that he’s the only one freaking out.

He thought they would never split, that the band would be together forever, as cheesy as it sounds. But here they are, not able to look at each other in the face, talking about breaking up.

Breaking up the fucking band because they don’t agree in anything anymore.

“Maybe we can figure something out…” starts Brendon, his tone hopeful.

“We’ve grown apart,” says Jon simply. “You guys want to do one thing, Ryan wants to do another… I think that this is for the best.”

Brendon feels suddenly enraged as he stands up, directing his fury towards Jon. “What the fuck do you know? You weren’t here when we first started!”

“Brendon,” says Ryan sternly, but Brendon is too fucking pissed off to listen to him.

“Are we throwing all of this away because of… musical differences?” snorts Brendon. “Come on, guys. Just go and do a side project or something, and then we’ll work on another album…”

Spencer places a hand on his shoulder, but Brendon shrugs it off. “We can’t give up just like that!” protests Brendon. “This… this is everything to me.”

He can’t stand the indifference in Jon’s eyes, or the regret in Ryan’s, or the complete defeat in Spencer’s. They don’t understand. Panic! is his life, his family… the band is the only certainty in his life and they’re taking it away because they can’t compromise.

“What’s next?” asks Spencer calmly.

“I don’t know, I-“ Ryan stops talking when Brendon wipes his eyes with his sleeves, his face red. “Bren, we can discuss this later if you want to.”

“Fuck you,” snarls Brendon, and he walks out of the room.

It’s sunny and bright outside, and the heat leaves Brendon breathless for a moment. He walks and walks, the previous conversation piercing his heart, and he wants to destroy something. They’re leaving, Ryan and Jon are leaving, and what’s left? Does Spencer want to stay with Brendon? Is the band over? What is going to happen?

“Brendon fucking Urie, stop running away!”

Brendon turns around and he sees Ryan approaching him, the front of his paisley shirt wet with sweat. Ryan gasps for breath and wipes his forehead with his hand, glaring daggers at Brendon.

“Stop acting like a fucking diva and come back so we can talk,” says Ryan.

“Diva? You’re calling me a diva? You’re the arrogant fucker who suddenly thinks that he is too good for us!” yells Brendon, and before he can say anything else, Ryan’s fist hits him hard on the jaw. They start throwing punches at each other, pathetically, because both are terrible at fighting. Brendon hopes that a cop drives by so they can get arrested or something, he needs a distraction from the pain that is growing inside his chest.

“Stop!” cries Ryan, and Brendon lets go of him, breathing heavily.

Ryan looks tremendously vulnerable, and Brendon licks his own lower lip, tasting blood. Ryan’s cheek is swollen, a nasty bruise already forming, and he looks more like a scared teenager than the adult he’s supposed to be.

“You’re leaving me,” says Brendon at last. “You’re abandoning me, you stupid fuck.” Brendon grabs Ryan by the collar and kisses him, hoping that Ryan will finally understand what is going through Brendon’s mind, what he wants, what he needs.

But Ryan isn’t kissing him back, and Brendon’s heart shatters, slowly pulling away. He’s not going to cry, not in front of Ryan. And suddenly, he’s not looking at his bandmate anymore. He’s looking at a cold-blooded stranger.

“Have a nice life,” says Brendon acidly. He glances at Ryan one last time, and the pain on Ryan’s face shocks him for a moment, but Brendon leaves anyway.

He’s the one walking away this time.

 

Four.

 

“We’re older but not any wiser, it seems,” says Ryan, putting down his drink. Brendon laughs as he smiles shyly at Shane, who is busy texting.

“If I didn’t know you better, I would say that you’re stalking me,” mocks Brendon, taking off his glasses to clean them. “Of all places, we had to bump into each other here.”

Ryan smiles and says nothing, and Brendon tries to ignore the warmth running in his veins. They have finally put their differences aside, and Brendon finds it amusing that now they can run into each other without any awkwardness, that they’re finally friends again.

It took them months, but they finally did it.

“How’s the album going?” asks Ryan politely.

“It’s great, man, I’m having a blast,” says Brendon excitedly. “We have these songs and…” Brendon continues talking, moving his hands around as he speaks, and Shane takes a picture of them without warning.

“Can I tweet this?” asks Shane slyly.

Ryan shrugs as he grabs his drink, finishing it in one gulp. Brendon nods, feeling uneasy, but Shane is already tweeting away. Ryan isn’t too talkative, and he keeps fidgeting as if he’s struggling to say something, but every time he looks at Brendon he merely smiles silently.

They spend a few more minutes talking about everything and nothing, and Shane glances at his watch, yawning mockingly.

“Bro, are you ready?” asks Shane, pocketing his phone.

“Um…” Brendon gives Ryan a significant glance, waiting.

“You guys came here together?” asks Ryan monotonously.

“Yeah, I’m the designated driver…” chuckles Shane. “Against my will, mind you.”

“I’ll drive Brendon home,” says Ryan nonchalantly. “We can spend more time catching up… or whatever.”

Or whatever.

Shane gives them funny looks but says nothing, and he gives Ryan a one-armed hug before he leaves. When Shane finally leaves them alone he leaves nothing but silence behind him, and Brendon places his hands on the table, almost unable to breathe properly.

“So… how are you?” asks Brendon.

“You already asked me that,” says Ryan gruffly.

“Yeah, but Shane was here,” chuckles Brendon. “I want an honest answer.”

“I’m okay,” says Ryan, glancing around. “Want to get out of here?”

Ryan’s voice sounds so broken even if his expression is unreadable, and Brendon’s entire state of mind is complete chaos. He removes his hands from the table, clumsily brushing Ryan’s and he nods silently.

“Okay… okay…” mumbles Ryan, his eyes not leaving Brendon’s face.

 

Later

 

“And you were such an ass to me during that interview,” laughs Brendon, placing his bottle on the coffee table.

“We were all idiots, Bren.” Ryan is laughing, his smile bringing light to his face, and he looks more relaxed. He takes another drink from his bottle and puts it away, his laughter dying slowly.

“Can I ask you something?”

Brendon blinks and nods at Ryan as he gets more comfortable in the couch. Ryan isn’t sitting too far away from him, but he’s still keeping his distance.

“Did you ever love me?” asks Ryan wretchedly.

“Ryan, I still love you,” grins Brendon teasingly. “I never stopped loving you. And you’re drunk.”

“No, I meant… love me, love me,” says Ryan seriously. “As in… were you ever in love with me?”

Brendon sighs and runs his fingers through his hair as painful memories come rushing back to him. “Why are you asking me this?” asks Brendon despairingly.

“I want to know, obviously,” says Ryan, an attempt at being a smart-ass. But the air is heavy with vulnerability, and Brendon knows that they can’t joke about this or avoid the conversation anymore.

They’ve spent years doing that.

“Yes,” confesses Brendon.

“Ah.” Ryan stares at the ceiling, his breathing uneven. He’s clutching the fabric of his slacks, his knuckles white, and then he finally looks at Brendon again. “How did you know…?”

“Remember the night your dad beat you up?” says Brendon sadly. “The night you called me over and we talked under the lamppost until you felt better?”

“We kissed,” says Ryan, and the fact that he’s finally admitting it hits Brendon in the gut with an incredible force. After all these years, Ryan is finally acknowledging it.

“I wouldn’t call that a kiss,” says Brendon musingly. “But… yeah, whatever that was. I think that’s the night I realized I had feelings for you. Were you ever in love with me?”

Ryan chuckles, his smirk feeling like a stab in Brendon’s heart. Is he making fun of him? Did Ryan just want his confession to make fun of him?

“That night in the bus,” says Ryan pensively. “I almost told you how I felt… I almost did. But it would have ruined the band, you know? The moment I kissed you I knew I had fucked up.”

“Ryan, we were doing stage gay,” snorts Brendon. “I doubt people would have cared!”

“What if we had broken up?” says Ryan. “We would have ruined everything, Brendon.”

“Are you listening to yourself?” says Brendon sarcastically. “Fucking hell, Ryan, we ruined everything anyway. We didn’t last long as a band for fuck’s sake. Did you forget that we split?”

“No, I haven’t,” snaps Ryan. “But you moved on so fast, putting on your happy face, touring around-“

“You had another band!” says Brendon hysterically. “Did you expect me to mope around and feel all depressed? Newsflash, Ross, I was fucking depressed. But I had to get over it. I had to come back to life.”

“For Sarah?” sneers Ryan, and Brendon has had enough. Ryan will never change; he will always be the defensive and withdrawn asshole he’s always been. Brendon stands up, hitting the coffee table as he does.

“Brendon, please,” says Ryan exasperatedly. “I was joking.”

“You never take anything seriously,” deadpans Brendon. “That’s why you are such a fucking failure.”

The words echo in the room, and Ryan stands up, moving closer to Brendon. “I’ve always taken everything seriously,” he says quietly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re always running away from something,” says Brendon. “You’re always avoiding everything.”

“You’re saying that because I avoided you,” says Ryan venomously.

It’s a battle of glares, and Brendon wants to punch him just like he did the band officially split. He wants to hurt Ryan, and he realizes that he hasn’t truly forgiven him.

Ryan leans in, his lips feeling rough against Brendon’s, and they kiss slowly for what seems an eternity. Brendon pulls away, lightheaded due to the lack of oxygen and he blinks at Ryan, who is looking at him with the utmost warmth. But Brendon looks at him in silence, because he just realized something.

“But I’m not in love with you anymore,” breathes Brendon. “I was. But…not anymore.”

“Then why did you kiss me back?” asks Ryan miserably.

“Closure,” says Brendon sincerely. “I think we both needed it.”

“You’re right,” says Ryan, stepping back. “As you always are.”

Brendon raises his eyebrows at Ryan’s words, the notes of a certain song playing in the back of his head and Ryan lets out a chuckle, shaking his head at Brendon.

 

“I guess now you know.”


End file.
